MUSIC; Music That Thinks Outside the Chamber

By ANNE MIDGETTE

Published: June 24, 2007

MY epiphany came when I told a friend I was going to a chamber music concert, and she -- well-educated, well-heeled, operagoing -- made a throwing-up gesture into her hand.

For Gil Morgenstern, a violinist and concert presenter, the epiphany came when an acquaintance informed him that the two most boring words in the English language were ''chamber music.''

Our reactions? Shock. Denial. Anger.

In short, stages of mourning. Because these moments were startling confrontations with a reality neither of us had realized: that for many people, chamber music is dead.

The term ''chamber music'' allows many definitions, most involving the idea of a few people playing music in an intimate space. But the most common perception -- among both passionate fans and detractors -- is that the players are members of an established ensemble (a quartet, a trio) performing century-old masterworks on traditional instruments in an atmosphere of worshipful silence. This is hardly the depiction of a living art form, or one attractive to anyone who is not already an initiate.

And audiences are declining. Yes, there are more groups than ever, but anecdotal evidence suggests that many presenters are having more trouble getting people to go and hear them.

''At the moment supply outstrips demand,'' said John Steinmetz, a bassoonist and composer active in the chamber music field. ''After many years of programs and grants to increase supply, arts organizations are only now starting to think creatively about how to increase demand.''

Even chamber music's most passionate supporters seem to have trouble explaining exactly what it is. Wu Han, a pianist and co-artistic director of the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center (with her husband, the cellist David Finckel), says that ''chamber music is anything that is more than one person'' focusing on ''intimate details.'' Lisa Bielawa, a founder of the festival Music at the Anthology and a composer in residence with the Boston Modern Orchestra Project, defines chamber music as ''a group of people -- fewer than 15 and more than 1 -- who get together and play something someone else wrote.'' (She also sees the term as anachronistic: ''I often find myself calling it 'ensemble piece.' '')

And Margaret M. Lioi, the chief executive officer of the service organization Chamber Music America, says that its definition of chamber music is ''music for small ensembles in which each player has a part, generally without a conductor.'' In other words, there is no technical distinction between chamber music and a band. As a result of this inclusive definition, Chamber Music America has a sizable contingent of jazz groups among its members.

''I think that Small Ensemble America is a really bad name,'' Ms. Lioi said. ''We have to remain Chamber Music America because we can't find a better name. It's what we've got.''

This difficulty with terminology reflects a very real problem with chamber music. Those involved in making it want to define it in terms of its potential. A small group of musicians playing in an intimate setting is, after all, one of the most popular forms of music making today. You can find ''chamber music,'' by this definition, in bars and clubs across the country on any given night. But those invested in maintaining traditions -- including some presenters and commendably passionate audiences -- want a more conservative definition that keeps out the innovation.

''It's a different art form,'' Ms. Wu said, speaking of jazz and the Bang on a Can All-Stars, the six-member performing arm of the New York-based composers' collective, which includes an electric guitar.

And those who define themselves as chamber music presenters are not as interested as Ms. Lioi in expanding the definition of the term.

David Rowe, an artists' manager, demonstrated this by examining the offerings of 76 chamber music organizations and establishing that 98 percent of their concerts presented straight classical music. This seems to indicate that those who offer chamber music are not, for the most part, exploring the term's potential to embrace a wealth of different kinds of music.

And that's just how purists like it.

''That crowd is the most loyal of any crowd that I've had to book for,'' said Mr. Morgenstern, who recently stepped down as artistic director of the Appalachian Summer Festival and still directs its Broyhill Chamber Ensemble. ''They will grouse about modern music, however they define that. But they will keep coming back.'' And at his festival, he added, they were the most generous patrons.

From the insulated perspective of some of the field's top players, like Mr. Finckel (who is also the cellist of the Emerson String Quartet), no decline in audiences seems apparent -- not even at the Chamber Music Society, which, Ms. Wu said, averages ticket sales of about two-thirds of its capacity.

''If you can't get an audience to come to your Beethoven, you're doing something wrong,'' Mr. Finckel said. ''If people are coming and not getting the message, it's the presenter's fault.''

Ms. Wu agreed: ''It's not the fault of the art form. It's the fault of the institution.''